his red coat.
By the end of the afternoon he and Harry learned that only six cabs from four companies picked up single fares in that time period. Four went to North Beach, one to the Opera House in the Civic Center, one to the Haight-Ashbury district. Yes, those drivers routinely picked up fares at the Westin.
Now they needed to determine if any of those fares were Mossman.
Harry checked his watch again and stood, stretching. “The evening doorman might be on duty now. Let’s go show him Mossman’s picture.”
And the cabbies, too.
The doorman did remember Mossman...at least the coat...but not the cab company nor the destination he gave the driver. They missed the driver whose fare had gone to the opera but eventually caught the others. The one remembered his Haight-Asbury fare, and it was not Mossman, nor was one of those going to North Beach. The remaining three drivers could not identify Mossman’s photo.
“ That doesn’t mean I couldn’t have taken him,” one female driver said. “I just don’t remember him. They get in, ride quietly, don’t stiff me on the tip or give me a big memorable one and they’re just another fare, you know?”
Finally Harry called it quits. While they typed up reports back at the office, he said, “What do you say to taking Lien out for a change? I’ll call her, and you make reservations for three somewhere.”
Garreth shook his head. “Tonight you have her to yourself. I’m going to grab a quick bite somewhere and fall into bed early.”
“ You sure?” Harry whipped his report out of the typewriter and signed it after a fast proofread.
“ Go home to your wife.”
Harry waved on his way out.
Garreth kept typing. Some time later Evelyn Kolb came in and picked up her tea thermos. “Did you get your teletype from Denver? I think Leyva put it under something on your desk.”
“ Under?” Under, for God’s sake. It could have vanished forever.
But he found it under the bodega murder book...a description of Mossman’s jewelry. A man’s gold Rolex with functions doing everything but answering the telephone; a plain gold man’s wedding band, size 8 inscribed: B.A. to G.M. 9-4-73.
Next week was their wedding anniversary. What a hell of a present.
The last item caught his interest even more than the Rolex...a sterling silver pendant two inches long, shaped in the outline of a fish with the Greek word for fish inside the outline. Was that enough silver to bother stealing?
Maybe the killer just disliked Christian symbols. Faye and Centrello looked at cults in the Adair murder.
The teletype went on to report that Mossman’s wife knew of no enemies, just business rivals. Of course, that would have to be checked out. For now he typed up the jewelry descriptions for a flier to distribute to the pawnshops, then finished his reports.
2
“ No more. Bu yao,” Garreth said to the waitress who extended the coffeepot toward his half-empty cup.
Instead of catching a quick bite, he had come to his favorite Chinese place, Huong’s. A hole-in-the-wall greasy chopsticks eatery up an alley off Grant Avenue that served some of the best fried rice and egg rolls in San Francisco. Marti had loved the food, too. For Huong’s, they learned to use chopsticks and ignored the greasy smoke that seeped out of the kitchen, covering the walls and Chinese signs on them with a coat of dingy gray. And they had Lien teach them enough Chinese to order, and tease the waitress.
With a nod and a smile, the girl turned away.
He drained the cup and stood, reaching for the check with one hand and into his pocket for the tip with the other. At the cash register he paid the withered little old woman almost hidden from sight by the machine. “Delicious, as always, Mrs. Huong.”
She smiled in return, bobbing her head. “Come back again, Inspector.”
“ Count on it.”
Outside, he walked down the steep alley to Grant Avenue and stood on the sidewalk, surrounded by passing evening
By the end of the afternoon he and Harry learned that only six cabs from four companies picked up single fares in that time period. Four went to North Beach, one to the Opera House in the Civic Center, one to the Haight-Ashbury district. Yes, those drivers routinely picked up fares at the Westin.
Now they needed to determine if any of those fares were Mossman.
Harry checked his watch again and stood, stretching. “The evening doorman might be on duty now. Let’s go show him Mossman’s picture.”
And the cabbies, too.
The doorman did remember Mossman...at least the coat...but not the cab company nor the destination he gave the driver. They missed the driver whose fare had gone to the opera but eventually caught the others. The one remembered his Haight-Asbury fare, and it was not Mossman, nor was one of those going to North Beach. The remaining three drivers could not identify Mossman’s photo.
“ That doesn’t mean I couldn’t have taken him,” one female driver said. “I just don’t remember him. They get in, ride quietly, don’t stiff me on the tip or give me a big memorable one and they’re just another fare, you know?”
Finally Harry called it quits. While they typed up reports back at the office, he said, “What do you say to taking Lien out for a change? I’ll call her, and you make reservations for three somewhere.”
Garreth shook his head. “Tonight you have her to yourself. I’m going to grab a quick bite somewhere and fall into bed early.”
“ You sure?” Harry whipped his report out of the typewriter and signed it after a fast proofread.
“ Go home to your wife.”
Harry waved on his way out.
Garreth kept typing. Some time later Evelyn Kolb came in and picked up her tea thermos. “Did you get your teletype from Denver? I think Leyva put it under something on your desk.”
“ Under?” Under, for God’s sake. It could have vanished forever.
But he found it under the bodega murder book...a description of Mossman’s jewelry. A man’s gold Rolex with functions doing everything but answering the telephone; a plain gold man’s wedding band, size 8 inscribed: B.A. to G.M. 9-4-73.
Next week was their wedding anniversary. What a hell of a present.
The last item caught his interest even more than the Rolex...a sterling silver pendant two inches long, shaped in the outline of a fish with the Greek word for fish inside the outline. Was that enough silver to bother stealing?
Maybe the killer just disliked Christian symbols. Faye and Centrello looked at cults in the Adair murder.
The teletype went on to report that Mossman’s wife knew of no enemies, just business rivals. Of course, that would have to be checked out. For now he typed up the jewelry descriptions for a flier to distribute to the pawnshops, then finished his reports.
2
“ No more. Bu yao,” Garreth said to the waitress who extended the coffeepot toward his half-empty cup.
Instead of catching a quick bite, he had come to his favorite Chinese place, Huong’s. A hole-in-the-wall greasy chopsticks eatery up an alley off Grant Avenue that served some of the best fried rice and egg rolls in San Francisco. Marti had loved the food, too. For Huong’s, they learned to use chopsticks and ignored the greasy smoke that seeped out of the kitchen, covering the walls and Chinese signs on them with a coat of dingy gray. And they had Lien teach them enough Chinese to order, and tease the waitress.
With a nod and a smile, the girl turned away.
He drained the cup and stood, reaching for the check with one hand and into his pocket for the tip with the other. At the cash register he paid the withered little old woman almost hidden from sight by the machine. “Delicious, as always, Mrs. Huong.”
She smiled in return, bobbing her head. “Come back again, Inspector.”
“ Count on it.”
Outside, he walked down the steep alley to Grant Avenue and stood on the sidewalk, surrounded by passing evening
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